


white sand & cold ocean

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Series: Sheith Prompt Fills [44]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Motorcycles, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:10:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8436244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: prompt: if you're still taking prompts: SHEITH ON MOTORCYCLES W/ LEATHER JACKETS !!!! seriously tho, i cant be the only one who thought this after seeing this gorgeous art https://shirosredknight.tumblr.com/post/147896728420





	

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks to @soldieress on tumblr for picking the direction of this prompt cuz i was like “WHAT DOOOO”

“So?” Shiro asks, grinning from his perch atop his motor bike. 

Keith eyes the bike and considers his answer. A slow grin spreads across his face, “Still no competition for a hover bike.”

“Speed demon,” Shiro teases, pushing the kickstand down with his foot. Keith hangs back, watching Shiro turn the engine off before turning so that he’s sitting side saddle on the racing bike.

It’s practically a relic by modern standards. After all, why get motorbikes with wheels when you can get the faster, lighter, and generally more superior hover bikes? 

But not Shiro. He’d seen the old silver and black Ducati rusting away and bought her home, determined to fix her up to her former glory. ‘It figures,’ Keith thinks as he clutches the two-sized-too-big leather jacket he’s wearing, ‘that Shiro wouldn’t be like other people.’ 

Where others had seen the old bike and thought worthless, a waste of time, money, and effort, and a useless endeavor? Shiro had only seen potential. He always sees the potential around him instead of taking things at face value. 

“What?” Shiro asks, bare hands coming to rest on Keith’s hips. His thumbs stroke the edge between Keith’s shirt and jeans, causing the fabric to shift up and reveal the barest strip of skin to the cool seaside air.

Shaking his head, Keith relaxes and steps closer. In between the space Shiro’s made for him between his legs. Glances down at the bike and says, “She ran a lot smoother than I thought she would.”

Shiro immediately beams with pride. He takes one hand back and presses it atop the fuel tank. “Just because it’s got wheels doesn’t mean it can’t be a smooth ride.”

Tipping his head in acquiescence, Keith takes another step forward. Runs the back of his fingers against Shiro’s wind cool cheeks. Shiro’s fingers have managed to push Keith’s shirt up enough that his fingers are tracing the sharp jut of Keith’s hips.

His prosthetic hand is chilly against Keith’s skin. “Want your gloves back?” Keith asks quietly.

Shiro’s dark eyes lazily move to check the finger less gloves he’d forced Keith to wear before they’d started and shakes his head. “I’m fine.” His grin turns lascivious as he tugs Keith snug against him. “I’ve got my personal hand warmer with me.” 

Laughing, Keith rests his hands on Shiro’s shoulders and lets himself be pulled closer, “I always knew you wanted me for my body.”

“You figured me out,” Shiro teases, shifting up to his feet. He plants a kiss under Keith’s chin, moving up his jaw line until he catches an earlobe between his teeth and tugs. 

His hands are turning them around so that Keith’s the one sitting on the bike and Shiro standing. Distantly Keith’s aware of one hand curling into Shiro’s leather jacket and the other coming to rest behind Shiro’s neck, both hands tugging the taller man closer. 

This is such a bad idea but Keith can’t bring himself to care. He tips his head back, stretching his neck for more kisses (and hopefully hickies) as Shiro’s hand pulls Keith’s thigh up around his own thigh.

Shiro’s hands slip back under his shirt, causing Keith to shiver and sigh out, “Shiro…”

The rest of the world fades away. Keith can no longer hear the loud rush of the ocean sweeping over the sand. Or the birds trilling over head or the group of teens who’re horsing around on the other end of the beach. Even the sight of the broad blue sky is forgotten in favor of staring into Shiro’s lust dark eyes. 

They exchange lazy kisses one after another, unwilling to let the sweet touches end. Keith moves his fingers down to press lightly against Shiro’s throat, feeling the throaty moan the other man lets out when Keith sweeps his tongue over Shiro’s.

But eventually the both need to pull away for air. They part unwillingly, panting softly with flushed cheeks and smiles on their lips. 

“You want to go check the water out?” Shiro murmur-asks.

Keith snorts, “It’s winter. The water’s gonna be cold as hell.” The hand he’s still got on Shiro’s jacket reels him back in. “Maybe after I’m warmer.”

Shiro laughs tastes clean and sweet and warms Keith up faster than if he had swallowed the sun whole.


End file.
